Elliot ditched his jock reputation after high school. He happily traded his cleats and shoulder pads for college cafeteria food and seminars notes. Now, without the distraction of football, he has managed to find success at the University of Minneso...
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Pierce had held Elliot close to his chest all night, waking to a crystalline morning. The icicles hanging around the window reflected the rising sun as if winter itself had fashioned a custom chandelier for the two boys. Squinting, Pierce opened his eyes to see the daylight. With a sigh, he rolled away from Elliot to stretch his spine. They had wandered back to the upstairs bedroom before dawn, careful not to disturb anyone's slumber. The bed was undeniably warmer than his car.
There was a mechanical hum coming from the heater grates in the floor. The sound was muffled by chatter coming from downstairs.
Pierce sat on the edge of the bed, tussling with his messy hair. He rubbed his sleepy eyes, grabbed a shirt from a nearby laundry pile, and yawned. Before he stood, he kissed the tip of Elliot's nose - a signal to wake.
The blue-haired boy drew in a long breath without opening his eyes, not getting out of bed until he smelled coffee.
Pierce led him down the staircase, withholding the urge to intertwine their hands. His family was sitting in the living room, awaiting their arrival. A cluttered pile of presents resided underneath the overly-decorated Christmas tree. None of the wrapping paper matched, but each bow was paired perfectly with each pattern. Elliot even noted the use of vintage ribbon on some of the smaller gifts, murmuring a compliment to Pierce's mother.
